


Cottagecore Lesbians

by LucienCarr65632



Category: Fine Line - Harry Styles (Album), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Baking bread, Dancing, F/F, Fem!Harry, Fingering, Fluff, Girl Direction, Girlfriends - Freeform, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Quarantine Life, Rimming, Smut, cottagecore lesbians, harry and glenne being girls, jeff is there but also not, queer harry, to hozier, we dont need men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23701294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucienCarr65632/pseuds/LucienCarr65632
Summary: The pout comes back on Harry’s mouth, but her eyes are shiny of laughter too. “Heyy”, she whines, “You’re gonna wake up Jeff like this!”.“You’re right. We can’t have that. He must not know about..” Glenne’s eyes twinkle mischievously “..lesbians’ blogs”. More giggles, this time shared between them, while their mouths press again lightly in soft kisses.“Not that kind of blog either, G”. Harry tone is soft. “It’s just an aesthetics blog, really. Like proper Tumblr content. Not porn. Which is also proper Tumblr content, or at least it was. But..”. Glenne thinks Harry is adorable when she rumbles like that. She tells her: “You are adorable”, which makes her cheeks redden a bit. It’s this small things that make Harry blush, little acts of love, sweet words. If not, a couple of fingers inside her do the trick.
Relationships: Glenne Christiaansen/Harry Styles
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Cottagecore Lesbians

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys, gals and non-binary pals,
> 
> I'm Lucien and this is the beginning of my adventure on Patreon and AO3. I don't have much to say honestly. If you like to read Harry/Glenne wlw, this is for you. Otherwise, hang around and something for you will come. I also take requests for free, at least for now. It would be lovely if you could support me, I really need it. That said, I love writing. I hope it comes across. I love reading your messages if you have anything to tell me! Sending so much love. I hope I'm doing this right. x
> 
> warnings for: mild sex (fingering, rimming). fem!Harry.

“Glenne, Glenne”. Muffled giggles, rustles in the sleep-warm sheets. 

“Glenne, please, wake up”. A mop of brown curls peeks out from under the sheets, eyes glistening of happy mornings, puffy from too many hours of sleep. 

“H, let me sleep. You know I don’t have work today” moans Glenne in a small voice, quiet enough to not wake Jeff, his breath warm on her neck. She disentangles her right arm from his embrace, running her now free hand trough Harry’s unruly bed hair. 

Harry pouts, eyes not giving up their pleading look. Glenne starts to trace her features now, fingers massaging slowly the bridge of her nose, her cheekbones, the little space between her eyes. Harry shakes her hand away, a little smile threatening to bloom from one corner of her lips. She bites them, pleading look coming back in full force. 

“Glenne, please, I organized something cool for today. You have to wake up!”. Oh, it’s gonna be one of those days. Glenne knows there is no escape to this. 

“You organized something, uh? Baby,..” her hand goes back to Harry’s cheek, caressing that ghost of a smile, deepening the forming dimple with a little pressure of her fingers. She slips one of her fingers into Harry’s warm mouth, tongue immediately flicking to meet her beyond the lips. “..You know we have all day for this. No need to wake up so early to play”. 

Harry’s stare, unfocused for a moment, seems now to gain new lucidity. She lets the wet fingers pop out of her mouth, spit shiny and resting on her small chin. She pouts again, this time furrowing her eyebrows a little. 

“Not that kind of things!” she squeals, sounding both amused and offended. “I really thought of something cool to do today”. Her tone is hopeful, eyelashes fluttering over her green eyes. She is really trying, Glenne has to give her that. Before she has time to say anything, Harry rustles a bit more trough the sheets, her face inching closer to Glenne’s. She hides her nose in Glenne’s neck, breathing in her scent and leaving a fluttering kiss on her collarbones. 

Jeff, who is hugging Glenne from behind, shifts in his sleep, almost automatically, to give Harry more access to Glenne’s body. Glenne chuckles softly, her hand resting on the back of Harry’s head, hugging her softly to her bosom. 

“I mean, this is usually how it starts..”. Her tone is playful, not wanting to upset Harry but trying to get the message across. Harry huffs against her skin, warm breath followed by the sharp pinch of her teeth, as she bites her collarbones jokingly. 

“ I just like you.. so.. much”. She drawls her words, shuffling more into Glenne’s embrace. 

“So let’s just sleep for a while, then I’ll give you what you want” replies Glenne, determined to get a few more hours of sleep in the only free day she has had in weeks. 

“No, please. See..”, Harry’s head shuffles up on the pillow, now resting directly in front of Glenne’s face. She kisses Harry pouty lips for a second, because she can, because she hasn’t done so this morning. They’re soft, and so pink, parting slightly to accommodate her lips. 

“I have seen this blog,” Harry continues, between the kisses, “on Tumblr. It’s about..”. She lowers her voice, eyes glistening like she is making her part of a secret, “..lesbians”. Glenne can’t avoid the loud chuckle that escapes her mouth, ruffling Harry’s hair to let her know that she’s not laughing at her. Maybe a little, but. 

The pout comes back on Harry’s mouth, but her eyes are shiny of laughter too. “Heyy”, she whines, “You’re gonna wake up Jeff like this!”. 

“You’re right. We can’t have that. He must not know about..” Glenne’s eyes twinkle mischievously “..lesbians’ blogs”. More giggles, this time shared between them, while their mouths press again lightly in soft kisses. 

“Not that kind of blog either, G”. Harry tone is soft. “It’s just an aesthetics blog, really. Like proper Tumblr content. Not porn. Which is also proper Tumblr content, or at least it was. But..”. Glenne thinks Harry is adorable when she rumbles like that. She tells her: “You are adorable”, which makes her cheeks redden a bit. It’s this small things that make Harry blush, little acts of love, sweet words. If not, a couple of fingers inside her do the trick. 

Harry leans back towards the edges of the bed, retrieving her phone. “Look”, she says, determined. On the screen, a mix of blues and greens create the background picture of a blog. It’s a field of flowers, Glenne realizes, purple wildflowers, and shadowy mountains, and orange skies. It’s very peaceful. “This is me and you”, Harry whispers, pointing to the smaller icon in the middle of the page. There is a tree, and two girls holding hands. It’s really generic, and merely an inch wide, but Glenne’s heart flutters anyway. 

“That is very sweet, baby”, she whispers her, kissing her cheek. Lesbian Cottagecore, the title of the blog says.For wlw who love planting flowers, baking pies, feeding chickens, and kissing their girls. Harry keeps scrolling down, slowly, giving Glenne the time to appreciate every picture. Flowers, cats, picknicks in a field, baby cows, flowers, secret passages in the woods, bread, flowers, flowers, flowers. Charts about the secret meaning of each flower. Apple pie recipes. How to paint with blackcurrant juice. “This is very lovely” she says to Harry, caressing her hair. “Is this where you wish to be now? Are you bored of staying inside?” she can’t help but wonder. Her and Jeff have a full time job and, even if they also do most of it from home, it’s still something different than just laying around all day. Sure, Harry has her music and yoga and little things that she has to do, but quarantine seems to have taken a toll on her. It can be very demotivating to not be rewarded for your day-to-day work, at the point that you lose the interest in it. They’re hard times for everyone. 

But Harry shakes her head, biting her lips. “It’s not like that. I mean, of course, I’d love to own a cottage in nature to spend my quarantine outside without being in danger. But.. it just wouldn’t work. I need a real house, with internet and the gym and stuff, you know… and the piano and all the instruments. Here is where I wanna be. With you.” Her voice is so sincere, her eyes shifting while she finds the words to explain herself. “…and Jeffrey. Even if sometimes he is annoying” she whispers jokingly, like it’s another secret only between them. 

“Mhm..”, laughs Glenne, eyes twinkling back at her full of mirth, “I didn’t hear you complain last night.” Harry’s mouth is now in a straight line, cheeks tinted in red and accusatory eyes. “That’s not fair”. It’s a girls rule, never hold each other accountable for what said during sex. Harry will say whatever she needs to get laid, and Glenne knows that. She’s been on the receiving hand of those pleadings more times than not. 

Harry shifts uncomfortably under her gaze, probably remembering snippets of the night before. She must still be sore. At that thought, it’s Glenne’s turn to blush. She will never get used to it, to Harry. 

“I was just thinking that we can do it here”, Harry resumes, “you know, the whole planting flowers and baking bread kind of thing.. it’s cute”. For the first time, she seems unsure, hiding her eyes behind her long lashes. But Glenne knows better, knows that it’s Harry way of playing coy. “..and kissing girls” she adds, giggling, admiring how Harry’s lips scrunch up in a smile at her words. “And kissing girls”, Harry repeats, pecking her lips once as to highlight her remark. 

“Sounds nice”. It is nice. It’s warm, it feels like home. It feels like Harry, and not only the Harry in the sheets, but Harry every day, with her soft smiles and her crafts and goofy jokes at the dining table. This new Harry that they have been enjoying in the last couple of weeks, since quarantine started. 

“What would you like to do exactly?” Glenne asks. 

“I wanna make bread. Like, from scratch” she starts. 

“Such a typical celebrity”, laughs Glenne, rolling her eyes jokingly. “What are you gonna do then, make a live stream with Kendall and clap together for the NHS?”. 

“Heyy” Harry pouts. “You know it’s not like that. And Kendall and I are not that close anymore anyway”. 

Glenne hides her fingers in her tangled hair, scratching her scalp slowly. “I know baby, I know. I was just joking. So, bread is first. Then?”. Harry purrs under the attention, stretching her neck like a cat to receive more cuddles. More kisses are shared.

“Then… plant some flowers in the garden. I have some herbs that I bought online that need new soil. And maybe we can plant that gerbera daisy that we have in the piano room in the garden. She seems so lonely in her vase. She would be happier next to the lavender”. 

“Would she now”, repeats Glenne, amused at how seriously Harry is considering her plans. “Yep” replies Harry with defiance, lips red and shiny from all the kisses. 

\--

So Harry had rummaged silently in the closet, choosing their outfits for the day. Light and natural colors to reflect the sunlight, 70’s long jean skirts to sit on the grass, flower patterns on their blouses because they look pretty. That straw hat that Jeff does not wear anymore for Harry, a polka dots foulard Glenne bought in Jamaica to tie her hair in a pony tail. 

It’s a morning full of hushed laughter (Jeff is still sleeping upstairs) and ballroom dances in the living room, tumbling down on the green sofa every now and then to share a kiss, a whisper, a secret. 

It’s a morning that smells of freshly baked bread, the one with poppy seeds in it that get stuck between Harry’s teeth and show up every time she laughs. Bread and strawberry jam. Almond milk in their cup of tea, just a little splash, just to make the tea look more opaque, that caramel color which reflects the sunlight just right.

It’s a morning of running in circle in the garden, playing like children, the kind sun of California in mid-April watching benevolent over their shenanigans, their excited exclamations, their gardening plans soon forgotten. 

At lunch time, Harry has changed into an ivory summer dress and has discarded the straw hat in favor of braiding her hair. She lets Glenne put daises in it, the wild ones that grown in the garden. “You are my wildflower”, Glenne tells her, kissing her forehead after placing the last daisy. “So special, and so pure and uncontaminated. You don’t need anyone else to grow, you have everything you need here”. She points to her chest, laying a hand where Harry’s heart still beats fast because of all the running around. 

“My tits” Harry jokes, pushing her chest out. They smile, their eyes saying what words cannot. 

“I know. Thank you. Thank you for being here, for supporting me”.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, with anyone else”

“I know. Thank you anyway”. 

They eat bread again for lunch, with fresh cheese, tomatoes and pesto. At some point Jeff wakes up and tries to join them, but they send him away with some excuse. “It’s girls’ night”, says Glenne, even if it’s just noon. “It’s cottagecore lesbians’ day”, whispers Harry in her ear, eyes shining of laughter, cheeks rosy because of the sun and the fresh air. If Jeff is suspicious, he does not show it one bit. He looks at them, inquisitive and amused, and mutters a “Be good, you two” while he retrieves his sandwich to eat it upstairs. Glenne can’t refrain from giggling loudly, softly hugging Harry and kissing her cheeks, her lips. 

Hozier in the background is singing about Dinner and Diatribes, the bass echoing in the empty rooms. “That’s the kind of love I’ve been dreaming of” Harry hums softly. 

\--

“What are you thinking?” Glenne’s whispered words resonate in the silent living room, the record player still on from when the vinyl ended a couple of minutes ago. The hiss of the record spinning freely reminds her of hushed words far away, from another dimension. 

“You” replies Harry, moving her head to face her. She’s laying on the couch, head on one armrest and feet on the other. Glenne is sitting on the carpet, resting her chin on her crossed arms, a few inches away from Harry’s hips. She can see a sliver of skin where the dress opens on Harry’s back. It’s a summer dress, one of those that have to be worn with nothing underneath them. Just skin, Harry’s soft skin kissed by the sun. 

Glenne chuckles, “Liar” she says. Harry smiles softly, eyes crinkling. “It’s true!” she tries to protest, but there is no strength behind her words. Her voice reverberates in the silence, the hiss of the vinyl in the background a calm lullaby. 

“I’m thinking..” she tries again, “I’m thinking of our list, you know, for today. Things that we still need to do”. Glenne nods slowly, closing her eyes a bit. It has been a very full day. Full of love, happiness. Who knew emotions could be so tiring. 

“I’m knackered” she huffs quietly. Harry’s hand starts playing with a strand of her hair. “Me too” she whispers, a smile confused between the syllables. “I feel high”.

Glenne hums in agreement, tilting her head towards Harry to give her better access. “It’s the sun. What are we missing from the list?” she asks. 

Harry is silent for a second, face scrunched up in concentration. Then smiles, shiny teeth showing as she lets her head lull on the armrest. “Feeding the chickens?” she laughs. 

Glenne rolls her eyes, laughing too. “We don’t have chickens, Hersch”. Herschel. That’s how they call her, Glenne and Jeff. It’s symbolic. It means that Harry is family. 

Harry pulls on Glenne’s hair a bit, silently protesting her amusement. “I know” she mumbles, biting her lower lip. She seems more serious now, the joyous spark in her eyes only sign of the ongoing joke. “So…” she raises her eyebrows expectantly, tilting her head a bit, “…kissing the girl?”. Glenne shakes her head, faking exasperation. 

“You’ve been kissing me all day, you menace” she tells Harry. She lifts herself from the carpet and joins Harry on the couch. She straddles her with her body, sitting on her stomach and tucking her hands under Harry’s neck, one on each side. 

Harry brings up her hands too, entwining their fingers together, close to her ears. She smiles to her, their faces almost touching now. “But I want a real kiss now” she pouts, batting her eyelashes. 

Glenne complies, leaning in and capturing her lips in a ‘real’ kiss. Harry groans at the contact, parting her lips immediately. Her tongue is warm, strong but soft like only Harry can be. The skin around her mouth tastes like sunscreen and cherry flavored popsicles. Sweet. So sweet.

“So sweet” Glenne mumbles against her lips, letting her know. It’s important to let Harry know, always. She thrives off the praise, the want. She wants to hear that she’s being good. A good girl. 

Harry moans, biting Glenne’s lips delicately, with no real intent. They are red and shiny, slightly parted while she whispers “More please”. Glenne complies. 

The fabric of Harry’s dress is huddled up at her hips, her legs now intertwining with Glenne’s as they try to not fall down the narrow couch. Their skin, rendered more sensitive by the long exposure to the sun, quivers and trembles every time their thighs rub together. 

Every inch of Harry is hot, so warm under the tip of Glenne’s fingers while she fumbles under her skirt. Her digits are tracing secret labyrinths on Harry’s skin, unveiling the ridges of an old map while she caresses her slowly, then with more intent. 

Harry drops her head back on the armrest, her mouth slightly open while Glenne kisses her on the corner of her lips, her jawline, her neck, her collarbones. Glenne’s wet tongue laps softly the saltiness of her skin, kissing her love in every pore, with every breath.

She brings her hands up, on Harry’s still clothed ribcage, smoothing down the fabric while she looks at her from between her lashes. She hums sweetly, a tacit question lingering in the air.

“Yes” Harry sobs, her own hands entwined in her own hair, self-soothing, trying to tie herself down to something, to collect her already rushed breath. 

Glenne moves backwards on the cushions, gently repositioning Harry’s legs so they are bent at her sides, soles of her foots parallel to the couch. Her dress is gathered around her thighs like petals of a withered flower, wrinkled in contrast with the smoothness of Harry’s skin. 

Glenne attaches her mouth to the soft skin of her leg, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites while she lowers herself on her body. 

Then silence seems to stretch indefinitely in the room, even Harry is not making any sound, almost like she is holding her breath in, expecting something. 

Her skin down there is salty in a pungent way, more sweaty than on her legs. It’s salty, and incredibly human, and Harry moans loudly at the first lick, the breath that she was holding in punched out of her chest. Her body moves as she arches her back at the first spark of pleasure, so Glenne reaches around her legs with her arms and forces her to keep still while she’s licking into her. 

She’s intentionally messy, spreading her saliva around to make everything slide more easily, so that Harry can move herself on her face if she wants to. She licks around her and waits for her to relax only to start again to push inside, slowly, tongue pointed and strong lips. 

She brings one of her hands back down and circles her rim with one of her fingers, her dry skin coming in contact with Harry’s shiny wet pink skin. 

As she breaches her with one of her fingers alongside her tongue, Harry’s moans start to become more whiny, like she’s gasping for air from between her teeth. Glenne would love to see her now, cheeks stained of red from the exertion, eyes closed shut like every time it becomes just too much. 

So she inserts another finger, making sure that it’s wet enough and her digits slide in and out of her smoothly, prodding at her in the right way. She alternates fast movements to slow, deep pushes, her two fingers stroking her from the inside in the right way. Now she can raise her head a bit and just observe, just look at how wrecked Harry is while she enters her again, and again, and again. 

Harry’s eyes are shiny and are already looking at her, her lips bitten raw and crimson red when her mouths parts a little bit in relentless uh, uh, uh. She seems like on the verge of the abyss, already losing her equilibrium, resigned to the fact that she is gonna fall but determined to hold on a little more, just a little bit. 

When Glenne finds her prostate she knows because Harry rolls her eyes back and drops her head on the couch, a puppet moved by invisible strings. She spasms around Glenne’s fingers, trying to keep her inside her, to get her deeper. Her hands flail between her hair, tormenting them as to distract herself from the too much pleasure. 

When she comes, time seems to stop once again, and for one, two, five seconds nobody breaths. Glenne slows down her fingers inside her, moving away from where she is the most sensitive. She pats her thigh in a comforting way, caressing her skin until she resumes breathing normally. 

When she lays back on the couch next to her, Harry looks positively wrecked. The sunburn on her face is indistinguishable from her other skin now, all blotchy and red and shiny of sweat. The baby hairs on her forehead are all sticky like they are after a shower, the daisies in her braids are pressed on the couch or are laying on the floor, forgotten.

“I found your G spot” tells her Glenne, caressing her warm cheek softly. Harry chuckles. 

“You are my G spot, G” she murmurs, voice broken and drowsy after the orgasm. 

Their foreheads are touching now, as they look into each other’s eyes from too close. It should maybe be uncomfortable, because of all the sweat and saliva. But it’s just not. 

“That’s the kind of love I’ve been dreaming of” Glenne hums softly, the soft hiss of the record still playing in the background.


End file.
